Watching Over Us
by ashlyns
Summary: I'll tell you who else had faith like that: Mom. She used to tell me when she'd tuck me in that angels were watching over us" When did Cas first learn about Dean? What path led them to eachother? One-Shot friend fic. Spoilers season 1-5


Author's Note:

Well, I finally got back to writing, even if it is only a one-shot. This idea got stuck in my mind and I wanted to see if I still had the ability to actually put my thoughts down on paper (and write something that wasn't a 12 page research essay).

Anyway, I was thinking back to Houses of the Holy and the first introduction of the "angels" and I thought about what Dean had said. I hope this story-line hasn't been done before…besides having no time to write; I have no time to read fan fiction either. :(

Anyway, enjoy and please review!

**Watching Over Us**

The dusty straw roof had caved in, letting shafts of yellow sunlight stream in. The beams that formed the skeleton of the exposed roof shifted and swayed precariously, threatening to let go at any minute and plunge to the uneven floor below.

Outside the hut, plumes of black smoke still rose lazily onto the wind, drifting in the diving, banking breeze. Caught in a shaft of sunlight, half hidden under the downed grass of the roof, a hand peeked out, blue and lifeless.

A man entered, his face impassive, his brown eyes sweeping across the wreckage, searching. He inched forward cautiously, as though unsure of his own feet, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

For a minute, he stopped, staring in at the carnage before him. There was no emotion on his face and the only movement he made was the sweeps of his eyes, starkly bright against the pallor of his pale white skin.

Spotting the hand, he moved forward, stepping over beams and grass, passing broken wood chairs and a table that had been turned over. When he reached the hand he bent down and cautiously lifted the grass away.

The body was stiff, lying in a grotesque position with its one arm stretched out, reaching for a knife. The other was twisted behind its back. The body was gouged and marred with familiar symbols sticky with black blood.

The man with the brown eyes looked away, only for a moment, before bringing his eyes back to the horrific scene. A fly raced up from the belly of the carcass but before it could touch his face it dropped, lifeless to the floor as though hitting an invisible shield. None dared attempt the same.

"We were too late." A voice said softly from the doorway. The man with the brown eyes turned his head, looking back over his shoulder. A woman stood there, her blonde hair caught in the smoky breeze outside. She hadn't entered the ruined house. Instead, she stood in the deceptively cheery sunlight outside and watched him, her dirt-smeared face as impassive as his own. "There is nothing we can do, we must leave. Now."

The man turned, looking back down at the body on the ground before him. "Not yet, Anael." He whispered. "Uriel will be here soon." Beneath his mono-tone voice, a clear, high pitched ringing sounded with each word. Nearby, a pot exploded. Anael said nothing, but he could feel her disapproving glare. He had to work harder to control his voice and the vessel he inhabited.

A scream from a short distance away made the woman at the door turn. She watched the town beyond the doorway quietly. The scream lasted a few seconds and then was abruptly silenced. The sound of nothing followed, but it almost seemed louder.

A flutter of wings made the man with the brown eyes turn away from the body again. A woman stood behind him, this one with fiery-red hair that flowed in curls to the middle of her back. Her face was smeared with blood which she wiped lazily from her cheek.

"I am done." She said, her voice slightly menacing. "It is time we leave this hole behind." She looked first to the blonde woman in the doorway and then to the man who still crouched on the floor, holding up the remains of the grass roof that had been lying over the body. "It is too bad, really. He was good."

"You got them all?" Anael asked. The red-haired woman nodded and smiled slightly. It was a disarmingly nasty smile.

"And you had to kill them, Uriel?" The man asked. His voice was gruff but the echo of his true voice had been suppressed. The red-haired woman looked back at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course, Castiel. Do you even have to ask?" Uriel pushed a chair away with her foot and crossed the floor to crouch beside him next to the body. "If you had seen the way those…" She sucked in a breath, seeming to search for the right word. "_Demons_." She finally settled. "Had done to those people. It was mercy."

Castiel raised his eyebrow slightly, his eyes narrowing. It was a subtle motion, but one Uriel could definitely pick up. "You do not believe me?" She asked. She pointed to the man lying dead on the floor. "Have you seen what they did to the prophet?"

"I see." Castiel answered. Uriel shrugged.

"They poisoned him. Not even we can bring him back. And the archangel who was sent to protect him." Uriel looked over at Anael. "Still missing. But…we can learn whatever information the demons learnt." Uriel suddenly grinned and her hand snaked out to trace a finger down the side of Castiel's face, from his dirty brown hair to his bearded chin. "I left one alive."

"Then let us get this over with." Anael said from the doorway. She was stiff, her arms crossed across her chest. She seemed determined not to look at the body or Uriel.

Uriel got up quickly, her dress swirling around her ankles as she made her way out of the wreckage. She stepped around Anael, they eyed each other for a long moment, and then the blonde angel followed. When they were out of sight, Castiel turned back to the body on the floor.

"I am sorry we were too late." He said. His voice, however, held no hint of that sorrow. To be honest, he really did not know the feeling. Letting the grass fall back over the body, Castiel stood. Around him, the smell of rotting flesh and smoke seemed distant. The world was nothing more then a shimmer of time and space. It was pliable, and nothing in it was real. When you lived outside the world of mortal boundaries, there was nothing really permanent about the earth…even death.

Making his way out of the hut, he eyed his surroundings. They were in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people lying strewn around the huts and roads nearby were once villagers. He couldn't see their light anymore, and the swirling black evil that had possessed them was gone.

Walking up the path, a shimmer of movement above caught his eye. A host of angels were circling around the town, surveying, sending messages and progress reports back to home. They were the silent watchers, Uriel was the specialist, Anael was the leader and Castiel was…well, the new guy. This was his first mission to earth.

He had to admit, what he had seen so far was unimpressive. The humans were weak, their bodies easily manipulated. Even now, inhabiting this form and using it for his own gain was almost second nature. Not only did the human body bend to his intrusion, the mind relented as well and the soul was easily locked away into the farthest corner. All he had had to do was follow Anael to a suitable vessel and reveal himself to the man. Humans seemed so desperate for heavenly contact; they asked no questions of the being invading their body.

Ahead of him, he sensed his superiors in a cabin at the end of the main lane, near a small tree line. Anael, beautiful Anael with her powerful vessel. His sister. He remembered her being the first face he saw when he was created. The second was Uriel, scary and unpredictable. The third had been…

"Lucifer." The voice interrupted Castiel's thoughts as he pushed his way into the dark hut. A demon sat in a small boy's body, hands bound to a table in front of him. Uriel had driven silver stakes through the tiny wrists, and the steam rising from the silver could only mean she had first dipped the metal in holy water. "I don't know anything about Lucifer."

"Well," said Uriel, leaning on the table. Castiel looked up and saw the child, the chair he was sitting on and the table were all placed over the watchful eye of an elaborate devil's trap. The demon had no chance in hell of getting free. "I could always refresh your memory." With viciousness Castiel was still not accustomed to; Uriel reached forward and grabbed the stake, twisting it viciously. The demon cried out and a puff of black smoke rose from the metal embedded in his wrist.

"Okay! I might know something." Uriel let go of the stake but she continued to lean on the table. "There might have been a prophecy."

"A prophecy? Tell us." Uriel said quietly. The demon looked around the room, first at Anael and then at Castiel.

"What is in it for me?" The demon asked. "Are you going to let me go?"

Anael cut in, just as Uriel opened her mouth. The red-haired angel snarled slightly at her superior but remained silent. "It depends on the information you can provide." She said. The demon glared at her. "Tell us about the prophecy. If you don't, we will kill you. If you do, we will consider letting you go. It is, of course, your choice."

The demon was quiet for a moment, assessing its options. Finally, it looked up at Castiel. Their eyes held each other's for a long moment and, for a brief second, Castiel was able to see the human soul shinning underneath the demon's piercing black gaze.

Suddenly, the boy smiled. He was missing three of his front teeth and between the gaps, Castiel could see the swirling mass of evil inside. "Just him. I will only talk to him." Castiel stared, trying to process what the demon had just said. Just him? But…why…?

"Outrageous!" Uriel snarled. She reached down and yanked one of the silver spikes from the demon's wrist. The metal glowed white hot in her touch as she raised it above her head, preparing to strike the child. "You had your chance!"

"Wait!" Anael screamed. She leapt forward and grabbed Uriel's wrist. Castiel moved forward to help but Anael held up her free hand, halting him. She pulled Uriel around to face her. The two women were practically the same height but, at the moment, Anael appeared much, much bigger.

"We will wait outside." It was a command, not a statement. The tone of both Anael's human voice as well as her real one was dripping with finality. Uriel's hand fell, still holding the stake tightly. With a glaring look at Castiel, she dropped the stake onto the table with a loud, sizzling, thud and strode from the hut. Anael took one long, searching look back at Castiel before following.

Once the two women had vanished, silence reined. Castiel and the demon stared at each other for a long moment, both assessing. Finally, the demon must have been satisfied because it started to talk.

"Would you loosen this?" It asked, tugging feebly on the stake still embedded in its other wrist. Castiel could feel the way his vessel was designed. The wrist held muscles that helped work the hand. With that connection cut off temporarily, the demon was unable to free itself.

Cautiously, Castiel stepped into the devil's trap, grasped the holy-water soaked metal and pulled. With a grinding squelch, the spike came free of the child's wrist. The demon sighed as though relieved and let its hands fall off the table onto its lap. Quickly, Castiel gathered up the other stake and stepped out of the circle.

"Why did you want to talk to me?" He asked, setting the stakes into the opposite corner of the hut from the demon. The little boy shrugged.

"I thought I could trust you…I mean, as far as trusting an angel can go." He said. Castiel's vessel sighed out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

"Okay, I am listening. What do you want?"

"To know your name. I know Angels have them. Demons, on the other hand…at least, ones like me, do not. You see, I live in the shadow of my father...Azzazel" The demon smiled at him and began picking at the oozing holes on his wrists. "I am sure you know what that feels like...that shadow."

Castiel did, in a way. He had seen what the shadow of his father had done to some. Had seen the way it had corrupted Lucifer…

"My name is Castiel." The demon nodded.

"I like it. It is a nice name. Maybe I will take it for my own." Castiel cringed inwardly. It must have shown on his vessels face because the demon suddenly sat up a little straighter. "So, it does feel." The demon paused. "You promise to let me go, and I will tell you what I know."

Castiel nodded. He was getting tired of playing this game. He needed answers. He could hear the rest of the garrison in his head, buzzing, whispering to each other about the demon…about him. He was never truly alone, despite what the demon wanted to think.

"Swear it, angel. Out loud." Castiel knew he shouldn't, but…

"I swear it." The demon seemed satisfied. "What did the prophet say?"

"He had a prophecy. While we were torturing him he began shaking, more then the pain would have allowed. He began mumbling about the Michael Sword."

Castiel straightened and the voices in his head became quiet. The Michael Sword, what Michael had used to send Lucifer to his cage in the underworld…it had been lost, or hidden, by Michael hundreds of years ago.

"Where is it?" The demon shrugged.

"No one knows, the prophet never said. It will be uncovered, however, in a few thousand years." Castiel was non-plussed. To him, a few thousand years was the blink of an eye. "In 2009, it will be found again. And there will be a man who will lead you to it."

"What man?" Castiel asked. The buzzing had resumed in his head. The garrison was relaying the information he was collecting to his superiors.

"His name is Dean. He will be born January 24th, 1979." Again, the concept of human time meant nothing to Castiel. This boy, Dean, however, meant a lot. "The prophet became unclear. But he also said that there will be a new vessel. He did not mention a name, only that he will be Lucifer's vessel."

"Vessel?" Castiel asked. He suddenly realized his toes were touching the edge of the devil's trap. He had been so wrapped up in the details the demon was providing, he had moved forward against his will. "Lucifer will rise?"

"Yes." The demon said. "He will be released. The locks will be broken. It is fate. It cannot be stopped." Castiel felt a thrill of fear in his chest and bile rise in his vessel's throat. Lucifer. If he came back…

"What else did the prophet say?" Castiel whispered. The demon leaned forward on the table.

"Let me go. There was nothing else."

Knowing he had a promise to keep, but loathing the thought of letting an unclean go, he grabbed a spike from the floor and moved towards the devil's trap. Kneeling down, he began to scratch at the scorched wood on the floor, releasing the hold of the trap.

"What are you doing?" A voice screeched. A hand whipped out and pulled him back, away from the trap. Castiel looked up, shocked, to see Uriel's swirling anger reflected in the vessel's eyes. "We cannot let it go."

"I made a promise." Castiel answered. "I intend to keep it. Nothing good comes from lying."

"You are so naïve, little brother. It is going to get you into a lot of trouble some day." Uriel growled. She turned to face the demon who had backed away from them. The tiny, human face looked up at the approaching angel with trepidation and fear.

"I told you what you asked! I gave you everything I know! Let me go! You promised!" It yelled, shrinking away under Uriel's advancing form. The angel had her hand out, palm up, poised to give the touch of death to the pathetic creature before her.

"Castiel promised. I, however, did not." Uriel growled. A flutter of wings beside him made Castiel look over. Anael was there, her finger pointed down at the trap on the floor. A crack resounded and the wood floor shattered beneath the sigils. The boy's mouth opened and he screamed, expelling the demon from his body. With a flash, the smoke was gone.

Uriel turned, cursing. "How dare you!" She shrieked. Anael stared back.

"Remember who you are talking to, Uriel. You would do well to remember who is giving the orders around here." Uriel's face fell into a look of anger. With one last glance at Castiel, she disappeared, her wings fluttering angrily into oblivion.

In the corner, the injured boy stirred. His body was obviously too exhausted to wake him from the sleep he had fallen into.

"Why did you let it go?" Castiel asked quietly. "Will you not get into trouble?" Anael glanced at him before walking into the middle of the devil's trap. Softly, she reached out and stroked a strand of sweat soaked hair from the boy's forehead. As she moved the hair back into place, the wounds on his wrist disappeared and the blood spattering the table and floor vanished.

"I could see this child, Castiel. He was still in there. That demon was prepared to kill him if we tried to kill it." She looked back at him, her eyes solemn. "Do not, ever, allow a human life to be extinguished it you can help it. That demon was minor; it is weak and nearly powerless. Someday, maybe, it will grow to be a force to be reckoned with. And we will deal with it when the time comes. For now, though, this child is the first priority."

There was compassion in her face as she petted the child who slept peacefully on the floor before her. Castiel wished, for a second, he could understand that look, not just recite a definition of what it meant in his head.

"What about this…Dean? What are we going to do?" Anael's eyes remained on the child.

"We wait for our orders." She said softly. After a long moment, she stood and looked back at him. "I want you to take this child somewhere safe. There has to be a town or village nearby. Find a loving family." Castiel nodded and gathered the child up in his arms, not even watching Anael leave the hut.

He found a farm in the middle of the country. A man sowed his field by hand near-by while a woman butchered chickens in the backyard. Carefully, Castiel placed the child in a small hedge by their home. He knew he could not be seen but still feared prying eyes all the same.

He turned to fly off but was stopped by the gentle touch of the boy's small hands hooking around his wrist. Castiel turned, startled, and found the child watching him.

"Go back to sleep." Castiel whispered. Instantly, the child's body fought the command.

"I need to tell you something." He whispered. "Something it left out."

"I will make you forget that." Castiel said, trying to sound compassionate. It came out cold, even to his ears. He reached out with his other hand to place his fingers on the child's forehead, but the little boy stopped him.

"No, I need to tell you. It will be you." Castiel stopped.

"I do not understand."

"It will be you. The demon wanted to talk to you because it needs to know who you are. It needs to watch you and relay information back to its father. It knows how close to Dean it will get…it will even find the vessel." Castiel stared. That demon, the one who got away…the one who was supposed to be powerless? "It does not know who this Dean is. That, to it, was useless information. It really wants the vessel. It will possess it. That is how it will know who the vessel is."

"That demon will possess Lucifer's vessel?"

"For a while. And it will tell its father, Azazel, who is looking for the vessel. To release Lucifer."

"And I play what role?" Castiel asked.

"You are the angel who guards the one who will stop it all." The boy whispered. Castiel closed his eyes and listened. His mind was quiet. No other angel was listening. He was alone.

SUPERNATURAL

Mary Winchester smiled down at her baby boy. They had named him Dean, after her mother, Deana. It was strange, she knew, to name her child after her dead mother and not her dead father, but there was something about the name, Dean, that she couldn't shake.

Sitting here, in the hospital, staring down at her newborn, suddenly the world made sense. After years of hunting and dreaming of a normal life, she finally was on the way to having one. If she could keep Dean safe and sheltered from the evils of the world, she would be a happy woman.

"Dean." She cooed. The baby opened his eyes for a moment and then closed them again, sucking on his own tongue. How lucky he was, she realized, to never know the true horrors of the world. To never know what really lay out there in the dark. The future was not written in stone and she had promised herself the night that yellow-eyed-bastard had taken her family that he would never, ever get near them again.

A quiet knock on the door made her look up. She had expected John, with, hopefully, some roses and a teddy bear. Instead, she found a nurse standing in the hallway, staring at the little bundle in her arms as though she had never seen a baby before.

"You startled me." Mary laughed, clutching her child a little closer to her. "I thought you were my husband. He was supposed to be back soon."

"I am sorry." The nurse said. There was no hint of remorse in her voice. Slowly, she entered the room, her eyes still locked on Dean's tiny form. She was stiff and something in the way she walked conveyed an uncertainty with her surroundings. Mary felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Are you here to check him over?" She asked. The nurse stopped at the foot of the bed, still watching the child. There was something unnaturally still in her gaze that instantly put Mary on guard. "Are you?"

The nurse finally looked up. Her eyes were a deep shade of green, and there was a weight to her gaze that shone through despite the youth in her appearance. This was not a nurse looking back at her, this was something else.

"What are you?" The nurse's head cocked to the side, slightly, and her eyebrows crinkled and though she realized she had been caught.

"Do not be afraid." She said. "I am not here to hurt him. I just need to see for myself." Mary's grip tightened on her child. She felt naked and alone. There was no way she could defend herself, but she would fight to the death to save her son. The urge to scream for help was muted by some strange force obstructing the ability to raise her voice up above that of a whisper.

"What do you want?"

The nurse came forward a step and Mary jerked to the side, shielding her son. It had been years since she had come in contact with anything supernatural and, of all the times for that world to re-enter her life, it had to be now?

"As I said, I just came to observe." Something in the nurse's voice disarmed Mary. There was truth behind the words, but she still would not let her guard down.

"You never answered my question. Who are you?" The nurse sighed, eyes still on Dean.

"I am angel." Of all the answers she had been expecting, that was definitely not one of them. "I come bearing a message for Dean Winchester."

"What message?" Mary whispered.

"Angels are watching over you." With one last linger look, the angel disappeared. Mary was alone.

SUPERNATURAL

"I really am sorry about your friend, Bobby." Castiel whispered from beside him. Dean frowned and looked over at the angel. They were sitting in the Impala, the music issuing quietly from the speakers. The whole angel-fire thing with Raphael had been a bust so they were heading back to the abandoned house, hoping he was stupid enough to show up there…and not smart enough to just smote them in the car and be done.

"That's pretty out of left field." Dean answered, looking back at the road. Castiel had been silent since they had left the hospital. Dean knew how he felt. It was a creepy feeling to know they were heading, presumably, toward Castiel's last night on earth…again. The last thing Dean really wanted to see were pieces of his friend lying all over a house for a second time. "What made you think of that?"

"The vessel." Castiel answered. "Sitting in the wheelchair. I wish I could have done something more for Bobby."

"Bobby is pretty tough. Besides, Cas, it's not your fault he got jumped. I mean, you're not the one who pissed off Meg and made her go all revenge-crazy on us." There was silence beside him. Dean sighed and glanced back at Cas again to find the angel still brooding.

"Besides, if I know anything about Meg, she won't stop until she has my head on a plate. She's is one crazy bitch. It's not your fault. And, if you ever run into her and have the opportunity to kill her, do it. Don't let it pass you by. I've learned that the hard way."

Castiel turned his head away from Dean's view and stared out the dark window at the night passing them by. Dean didn't seem to be able to find the words to try and comfort the distraught creature.

"I know something is bugging you. It's not just Bobby and this whole killer archangel guy." Dean said. Castiel's face stayed deliberately out of his line of sight. "I know what it's like to be hunted."

"I don't." Castiel said quietly. "I used to be powerful. I worked hard to get where I was. I saw many people come and go, just for a second before they vanished and I passed them by." Castiel finally turned to look at him. Dean felt suddenly a little awkward under his penetrating blue gaze. "You would have been the same. A flash. An impression, and then death and I moved on. But I guess fate had other plans." Castiel paused, his eyes relaxing. He seemed to be lost in thought. "There was a boy. I never knew his name. But I still remember what he said to me. What he said about my destiny."

Dean hated the idea of destiny. He still didn't believe it, even though it continued to stare him right in the face.

"He was the first real human contact I ever had. I watched Ana, the way she was with him. The way she felt, and I couldn't connect. I had no emotion for him. I knew I should, but I…" Castiel paused and then shrugged. "I didn't know the feeling."

Dean remembered those words. Ana had told Cas the exact same thing before she had gotten her grace back.

"And then there was a woman, holding a baby boy. And suddenly, for a second, I felt it. Fear. Love. Compassion. She felt more in a second then I had in thousands of years." Dean still couldn't wrap his head around how old Cas really was. Jimmy's body, close to Dean's own age, was deceptive. The eyes were the only way to see the trials had endured.

"And then there was you. You and your brother."

"I hear regret, Cas." Castiel looked up, startled slightly.

"No." He said, finally. It was soft but sounded sincere. "No regret. Acceptance. I know why Ana fell. It took me losing everything to see it. But my path was laid down for me long ago."

Dean shifted uncomfortably. This was getting a little close to being sentimental. He didn't think he could handle it if Cas decided to break down right here and now.

"So, I guess we are just going to have to see where this path goes, right?" Dean said. "I mean, that means that we've gotta trap this son-of-a-bitch Raphael and find out where God is. Then maybe you can go back."

"Back?" Cas asked. Dean nodded.

"Yeah, you know. Back to Heaven. Teach the other tight-asses about sex and drugs and rock and roll." It might have been his imagination, but Dean thought he saw a small smile on the corner of Cas's lips…only for a second.

There was silence for a moment as they turned to pull into the driveway of the abandoned house. Dean stared at the darkened windows. There was no movement within. Maybe Rapahel had wimp-bitched out?

He hoped so. He didn't think he could look at the vessel again without seeing it in his mind, staring out the window, drooling onto his shirt. It would be far worse for him…

"Well, that's a day I'll never get back." He said, slowing the car down to a stop. Castiel sighed and slowly exited the Impala, his eyes scanning the dark house. Dean followed him, closing his door as softly as possible in the silence.

Castiel moved ahead of him, up the driveway, vigilant to their surroundings.

As he moved, watching over them, Dean was suddenly struck by something Castiel had said. It had been offhanded, but the whole part of the woman holding a baby boy had struck a cord with him and he was unable to shake it.

"Angels are watching over us." He whispered. Castiel glanced back at him, his feet already taking him up the flight of stairs that led to the deck. Dean blinked, a pit forming in his stomach.

She couldn't have meant literally…right?

"Cas, wait up!" Dean called. He took the deck stairs two at a time and managed to get in front of Castiel as the angel was reaching for the front door.

As Dean pulled open the door and stepped inside, ready to ask who Cas had been talking about when he had mentioned the woman and the baby, the angel rushed forward and grabbed Dean's arm, pulling him to a stop.

"Dean, wait!" Electric light lit up Castiel's face. The archangel was here. The question vanished from Dean's mind.


End file.
